


No Unwounded Soldiers

by akamine_chan



Category: Whiskey Echo
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-01
Updated: 2008-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rollie stepped out into the hot, dusty air outside the operating theater, swaying a little in his exhaustion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Unwounded Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LiveJournal Community ds_snippets
> 
> Notes: Unbeta'd. For Cysefin's belated unbirthday. Title stolen from the quote: _In war, there are no unwounded soldiers_ from José Narosky. Sorry, Slidellra. I did try for one of your requests. But I am full of fail. *hangs head*
> 
> Prompt: sixty-nine

Rollie stepped out into the hot, dusty air outside the operating theater, swaying a little in his exhaustion. He needed a moment to catch his breath. Collapsing onto the creaky wooden stairs, he rested his elbows on his bony knees and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. After two straight days of desperate activity, two days of no sleep and a seemingly endless string of surgeries, it was over. It had been almost six hours since any wounded had been transported to their camp and Rollie sincerely hoped it was the last of them.

He didn't know how much more his team could take. Especially the newer members, like Rachel.

Bernadette had come in the theater at some point, toward the end, her pretty face covered with a surgical mask, to report the totals: eleven dead, two expectant and sixty-nine injured. The fighting had stopped, temporarily. Thank God. They needed this pause to regroup and take stock.

He'd seen the look of despair on Rachel's face after Bernie's announcement. The disbelief in her blue eyes above the cloth mask. _Eleven dead_. She was so young, such an innocent in this world of casual, meaningless death. She still believed that if she cared _enough_, tried hard _enough_ she could fix anything.

This God-forsaken country had broken too many bright young things and Rollie was afraid Rachel was next.

He stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, stretching, groaning softly at the ache in his back. Time to get back to work. There was still a lot of left to do: restocking what little remained in the way of medicines and supplies, making the dying as comfortable as possible, reassuring the wounded. Pretending that everything was going to be all right.

-fin-


End file.
